


Day 3: Gaming

by starkology (jawnwatson)



Series: Tumblr Writing Challenge [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jawnwatson/pseuds/starkology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek defends Stiles' honor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 3: Gaming

Derek sighed, tapping a finger on the arm of the couch as he stared blankly at the television. He could hear Stiles in the kitchen, puttering around as he worked on a potion to get rid of the vampire cat that had been plaguing the pack for the past few weeks. Derek wasn’t really sure why the kitchen in his apartment had been deemed suitable for potion work, when it was smaller than both Stiles and Scott’s kitchens respectively, but he had learned not to ask.

There was a clatter, and the sound of Stiles cursing sent Derek barrelling into the kitchen. Stiles was staring at his open palms, which were rapidly turning a bright, painful-looking red.

“Fuck, Stiles. What did you do?” Derek muttered, already moving forward to catch Stiles’ wrist in his hand gently. Stiles frowned, looking indignant.

“It was an accident, sourwolf. Calm down.” Derek rolled his eyes, pulling Stiles forward to the sink, where he ran some cold water and gently held Stiles’ hands under it. Stiles gasped in pain, and Derek shook his head, pulled the pain from him and watched the black leech up his veins. Once the red had faded a bit, Derek pulled Stiles into the bathroom, quickly rubbing salve onto his hands and bandaging them up. Once he was finished, he raised on unimpressed eyebrow at Stiles.

“You have to be more careful when you’re working with this stuff.” He said finally, and Stiles huffed.

“I am careful! I am the carefullest careful there ever was!” Derek rolled his eyes.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Stiles.” He said, and Stiles shrugged, looking down at his bandaged hands.

“Thanks for these.” He held them up, grinning. Derek shrugged, and walked back into the living room, Stiles trailing behind him.

“Hey, what time is it?” Stiles asked, watching Derek flop back onto the couch. Derek glanced at the phone sitting on the table.

“Almost 8, why?” Stiles’ eyes went wide, and he groaned.

“Damn it. Isaac and I are supposed to have a Mario Kart battle tonight at my house - winner gets declared Mario Overlord. But there’s no way I can play.” He frowned, sitting down. “Do you s’pose there’s any way he would postpone? No, he wouldn’t. He’ll make me forfeit. Little shit.”

Derek eyed the tv, then sighed. So much for a quiet evening.

“D’you think he’d accept a substitute?” He said finally. “I’m pretty good at Mario Kart.”

Stiles’ eyes lit up, and Derek looked determinedly away.

“You would do that for me?” He simpered, and Derek bared his teeth.

“Not if you’re going to be an annoying little brat about it.” Stiles swooned, one bandaged hand coming to rest against his forehead.

“Why Derek, I do declare - !” He started, and Derek grunted, standing up.

“Look, do you want me to or not? I don’t care either way,” he gestured to the tv, “I have a very fulfilling night of Wheel of Fortune to look forward to if you leave now.” Stiles pouted.

“Okay, yes. Defend my honor. S’not like I can drive myself home like this anyone.” He held up his bandaged hands as proof. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll drive you in the jeep and run home later. Let’s go.” He held out the red jacket that Stiles had left draped across his couch, watched Stiles flounder his way into it.

Derek grinned to himself. He had some honor to defend.

 

—-o—-o—-

 

Isaac was already waiting on the doorstep of the Stilinski house when they pulled up. Derek watched Stiles pat at his seatbelt with his bandaged hands until it popped open, and then got out of the jeep. Isaac was grinning smugly.

“You can’t play with bandaged hands, Stiles.” He said, crossing his arms. Stiles made a ‘pssh’ noise in the back of his throat, and Derek took his keys and unlocked the door.

“Derek is going to play in my place!” Stiles exclaimed, shedding his jacket and flopping onto the couch. He raised an eyebrow at Isaac. “Unless there are any objections?”

Isaac shook his head, eyes gleaming as he looked at Derek.

“You’re going down,” he declared, eyes judging Derek to disagree. Derek shrugged off his jacket and stayed silent, folding himself gracefully onto the floor space in front of Stiles.

“We’ll see.” He said finally, watching Isaac set up the game. When the title screen came up, Isaac handed Derek a controller and sat on the couch beside Stiles. A heavy weight landed on his shoulders, and Derek turned to see Stiles staring at the screen with a weird kind of intensity.

“You can do this, Derek.” He said, massaging his shoulders awkwardly. “I have faith in you.”  
“Thanks.” Derek said drily, turning around to face the tv again. Isaac rolled his eyes, and then pointed his controller at Derek.

“You’re going down, Hale.” He said, then turned to the list of characters on the screen. Isaac chose Princess Peach, and Derek rolled his eyes and went with Mario.

“Alright,” Stiles started, “Derek is filling in for me, and as such, if he wins, we will share the title of Mario Overlord. Fair?” Derek wrinkled his nose, but nodded.

“Fine,” Isaac sighed, “let’s get started.”

Derek stared at the rainbow road on the screen determinedly. The countdown on the game sounded, and Derek mashed his finger against the button as hard as possible.

“Go go goooooo!” Stiles cried, and Derek could feel him practically vibrating from his spot on the couch behind him. Isaac cursed as Toad knocked him off the track, and Stiles whooped as Derek used a mushroom to speed into first place.

“What the hell!” Isaac cried. “You lived in a place with no tv for like two years, how are you actually good at this?”

Derek grinned. “I had siblings, Isaac. Siblings who loved Mario Kart.”

“Watch out, Derek. Koopa Troopa incoming!” Stiles cried, cheering when Derek used a turtle shell to dispatch him.

“I’ll catch up.” Isaac said threateningly.

“You can try.” Stiles replied smugly, and Derek preened inwardly.

Derek finished his second lap still in the lead, Isaac five spots behind him. By the time the final lap came around, he had moved up to second place, and Stiles was yelling his head off from behind Derek.

“Come on! Go! Dereeeeek gooo!”

“Damn it Stiles, I can’t go anymore! My thumb is starting to cramp!” Isaac was cackling madly, but Derek ignored him in favor of completing the hard turn in front of the finish line. Isaac, however, was not paying such close attention.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He yelled, watching Princess Peach fall into the black abyss forlornly.

“Yes! We win!” Stiles said, throwing his arms around Derek from behind. Derek froze, resolutely watching the screen declare him the winner as his face turned red. Isaac made a disgusted noise, tossing his control down.

“You two make me sick.” He said, standing. Stiles rubbed his face against the top of Derek’s head, and Derek could feel his smug grin.

“You’re just mad that we’re the Mario Overlords now.” Stiles called, watching Isaac retreat to the front door.

“Whatever, Stilinski.” He threw over his shoulder, and then he was gone. Stiles snorted.

“Sore loser.” He sighed, and then jumped back, as if he had just realized that he was draped over Derek’s back. Derek stood, then turned to look at Stiles.

“There you go. Honor defended.” He smiled, and Stiles stood up. His heartbeat was going crazy, and Derek could smell the nervousness suddenly pouring off of him.

“Thanks.” He looked at Derek for a moment, then leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “A kiss for my hero.” He said, then fled up the stairs, calling ‘see you later!’ over his shoulder.

Derek stood in the middle of the Stilinski living room for a moment, staring at the tv screen in shock. Then he smiled, pulled on his jacket, and went outside, closing the front door behind him.

He was still smiling when he started his run home. He would have to defend Stiles’ honor more often.

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on [tumblr.](http://sourwofls.tumblr.com)


End file.
